Melancholy
by Smokey-eyed-Beauty
Summary: [SONGFIC]I love you Murrue! Godamnit I love you! AndyMurrue, hints of AndyAisha and MwuMurrue. Warning of slight swearing and one or two cliches, changed to a oneshot, resons inside.


**And now for something completly different! Well, not really. But anyways, here's the first half of my Andy/Murrue TWOSHOT. Yes, that's right, ANDY/ Murrue, not Mwu/Murrue, Andy/Murrue. So to all of you who are enraged just by thought of something other than Mwu/Murrue, I suggest you leave now. So as not to get angry and feel the need to write pointless flames that I will respond to coldly. Same thing goes for any die-hard Andy/Aisha fans...**

**Anyways, disclaimer: I don't Gundam Seed, Fukuda does. Why him? I don't know...but my science teacher told us about some disease going around because of Mercury mishandlement...it makes you wonder... As for the song, I've only used bits and pieces of it, but it's still not mine. It belongs to the amazingly talented Tom Watts and whatever record comapny he's with (he's old enough to be working with them and not belong to them)**

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I've always had a thing for melancholy songs. There is a certain beauty to them that cheesy love songs will never have. Sure, the Pink Princess's songs are lovely in their entire peaceful splendor, and I admit that I am a long-time fan. But there's something about sad songs. I'm not sure how to explain it, but I've always preferred them to anything else. It's somewhat like how I've always favored coffee to sugary drinks like sodapop or tea.

If I think about it, I'm attracted to a lot of bitter things, sad songs, coffee, ancient Greek tragedies, the military...

They create their own prophecy if you want to get superstitious.

_Operator _

_Number please_

_It's been so many years_

Actually, there's this one song that I've been listening to constantly these days. And yes, it is melancholy. I thought I already explained all that. It's an old one, a lucky tune from before this era that was by chance preserved.

And you know what?

I'm glad it was.

They tell me the style is country music, though they have no idea who the composer was. Well, it's obvious that they've never really taken the time to sit back and listen to it because if they had, they would know better. You see this song, this song is just one of those pieces that's too beautiful to be given a label or placed into a category. It's the sort of thing you can call music without the need to elaborate. The song sort of gives you the feeling that you know what music was meant to be.

_Will she remember?_

_My old voice?_

_While I fight the tears_

Now you're probably wondering why I'm rambling about sad songs and music and everything else brought up until now. Well I'm getting to it, so you can just sit tight.

The song is called 'Martha', so I'm pretty sure you can all guess it has something to do with a woman. Basically, it's about a man calling up his old lady friend a good forty years after he last talked to her. He eventually asks her out for coffee and lets out a few secrets. Of what kind, I'll tell you later.

Trust me, I do have a reason to be telling you all this and I'll explain it now. You see, at this point in time, this song is very significant to me.

Why?

I called Murrue yesterday.

_Hello, _

_Hello there, _

_Is this Martha?_

_This is ol' Tom Frost_

_And I am calling long distance_

_Don't worry about the cost_

She was happy to hear from me, which made me happy. Murrue's too kind to say such a thing without meaning it. I asked how she was going, and she replied that everything was wonderful. Wonderful, she really used that word.

Turns out she's engaged to Mwu-or-Neo now.

Well, good for her. I was starting to worry that the kid might tie the not before any of us oldies ever got the chance.

'_Cause it's been forty years or more now_

_Martha please recall_

_Meet me out for coffee where we'll talk about it all._

We talked about trivial, stupid, everyday stuff for a long time. It was great, a most welcome change. Last time we had a chance to talk, it was strictly war and battle business. The White Queen and I blasted off in our hijacked shuttle the day after that. And when I next heard from the Archangel, the Hawke was back.

Then we started talking about the past and things took different, bitter, melancholy turn.

_All I had was you and all you had was me_

_There was no tomorrow, we packed away our sorrows _

_And we saved 'em for a rainy day_

The two years of peace between the first and the second bloody valentine war are just one blur of emotion to me. Princess had offered me a job at Morgenroete and I took it, eager to get on with my life. I was stuck doing a lot of theory work and designing because of my arm. It aggravated me more than I can say, but it was better than being useless.

Eventually, Murrue came to work there too. Apparently, she had also been asked to come work here by Princess, though I think it was the kid and his friend who were in charge of the operation. It was nice seeing a familiar face after constantly meeting new people.

We went out for brunch or something like that, at a small serve-yourself restaurant about a block away from work. We talked a lot, like we did yesterday, on the phone. The two of stayed there for so long that we had to miss our next couple of lunch breaks to catch up on the hours we had missed. Murrue once told me that she felt like she was in detention all over again, the way she had been in high school. That surprised me 'cause I never expected her to be the type that got into trouble. As soon as we were off the hook, we went back to the same place and talked some more.

After a while, it became part of our routine to go there for lunch everyday as soon as the lunch bell rang. We became regulars, the people who ran the place thought we were a couple. Murrue even talked me into trying some of their coffee, even Aisha hadn't been able to do that (although with all due respect, Aisha wasn't mourning the love of her life).

That all lasted for a month, until I asked her to move in with. She was taken aback at first, but then happily agreed. Up until then, we had both been living in a world of denial. But once she moved in, bringing boxes filled with photos, personal items and memories, we were forced to face he truth.

_And I was always so impulsive_

_I guess that I still am_

_All that really mattered then was that I was a man_

I don't care what Le Creuset might have said, people want to help each other. It's in their nature. It always has been, we wouldn't have made it this far into the stream of time that we're at today if we were all born selfish pricks. Of course, there are naturally exceptions to that, but the fact is that humans, weather naturals or coordinators want to help each other. Because you have to if you want to live. It's sort of like a huge team effort, you know?

Murrue is a perfect example of it. Whenever I was having difficulty doing something because of my missing limbs, she was always there to help me. And, yes, that was great, wonderful even, having someone to give you a hand when you need one (literally) isn't a bad thing. But I'm a man, and contrary to popular belief, I do have pride.

And with pride comes a need to do things yourself.

It was a rainy day when I finally lost it.

Murrue had offered to help pour some cereal into a bowl while I was talking to someone on the phone. I was just one of her instinctive kind actions. But I don't know, there was just something about having to be helped for something so simple that bugged me. Fine, it did more than bug me.

The next thing I knew, I had dropped the phone and was screaming at Murrue.

"Will you give it a break, woman?" I had cried, "I'm not a fucking invalid, I can live on my own, thank you!" I continued for a while, screaming more profanities as I went along.

I only stopped when I realized what I had done.

I had made Murrue cry.

All that time, I had never been able to look at myself in the mirror, figuring that a monster would be staring back at me. And now, I was one. I couldn't believe myself. How could I have said those things? To Murrue of all people?

I fell onto my knees and cried.

I cried about Aisha. I cried about my missing limbs. I cried about Murrue and I cried about Mwu. I hadn't realized it, but that wonderful woman had lowered herself to my level and placed my head on her lap and held me as I cried.

"I'm sorry," she said.

I only apologized a couple of hours later, I think. Whatever happened, Murrue forgave me. I got my artificial arm installed within the next week.

The next rainy day, it was her turn to cry. A space exploration team had found the remains of an Earth Alliance battleship, The Dominion. Hardly anyone stationed on that ship survived and those who did sure didn't have any fairy stories to tell us about their time there. A memorial service was held and Murrue felt obligated to attend.

Her friend and comrade had been captain of that ship. They had been enemies. In the end, Murrue killed her –avenging Mwu. She later confessed her guilt to me about how, ever since the end of the war, she hadn't spared a moment's thought to this person whom she felt she had brutally murdered.

I didn't know what to do or say. I bet ya Mwu probably would have, but I didn't. So I just held her as comfortingly as I could.

_I guess that our being together _

_Was never meant to be_

_I love you can't you see?_

I remember that at the start of the second war, I had asked her to come to PLANT with the songstress, the kid and I. The way I did it, it made me feel like such a schoolboy. But I asked her, and that's what matters. And I know exactly what would've happened had things not played out the way they did.

Anyways, back to my telephone conversation with Murrue.

After a while, the past stopped being such a forbidden subject and we were talking freely again. Then slowly but surely, secrets began to slip from our lips without us wanting them to. We began to ask each other questions. Intimate, personal, freeze-up-if-anybody-else-asks-you questions. The answers we got were as silencing as the questions.

Eventually, _that_ question popped up.

Can't say I wasn't expecting it. Murrue had every reason to wonder after all.

"Why did you invite me to come up to PLANT with you, Andrew?" she asked in that quiet tone that I always thought was reserved for Mwu.

I was quiet for a moment. _Should I tell her?_ I asked myself. It wasn't an easy decision.

"Andrew?" she asked. Only Murrue calls me Andrew. To the rest of the world, I'm either Andy or Waltfeld, but to her, I'm Andrew. She's the one who wanted to call me that, and I let her. There's something unimaginably beautiful in that I find. "Andrew, why?" She questioned again. I shook my head and decided that I might as well spill.

"Can't you see it Murrue?" I demanded bitterly, "I love you Murrue Godamnit I love you!"

And if you haven't noticed, that's also the song's punch line.

Melancholy, isn't it?

_And I remember quiet evenings, _

_Trembling close to you.

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**So, was it ok? wonderful? horrendus? Tell me what you think by pressing on that special little button. And once again, to all those Mwu/Murrue fans who did not heed my warning, please don't flame if you don't like the pairing. I mean, I don't go around flamming your never-ending collections of Mwu/Murrue drabbles and oneshots do I?**_

**And as for part 2, it's not comming. I kept procrastanating so much that i gave up on it. Sorry, sorry, very sorry. Thanks so much to the two who reviewed, I love you guys! Once again, sorry. I think I got a little in over my head when I decided that I was going to make this a twoshot. Anyways, if you absolutly must have more here's the main plotline: Murrue's POV, song was going to be "Hollywood" by the cranberries, and they're was going to be remotly happy ending for this beautiful couple that Fukuda so stupidly gave up on. Have fun writing!**


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